


Corrections

by anxiousgeek



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dragon Age Kink Meme, F/M, Humor, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-02 10:24:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4056544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiousgeek/pseuds/anxiousgeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josephine meets the Inquisitor - Maxwell Tevelyan at one of Lady Trevelyan's Summer Balls in Ostwick. Young and mischievous they have have a fling and don't see each other again until after the Conclave explodes he becomes the Herald of Andraste.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Summer Ball

Josephine felt a tug on her elbow, and almost stumbled as her father urged her off the dance floor. He was a short man but strong, his own dark hair curled like her own, wearing his spectacles on his forehead. She always suspected it was because he'd forgotten about them rather than the fact he didn't need them. He wasn't necessarily a forgetful man, but Yvette said it was down to his artistic natures, which – much like her sisters – gave way to a scatterbrain.

She followed her father through the nobles on the dance floor, weaving in and out. It wasn't the first of the balls in Ostwick she'd been too but it was certainly the finest. Lady Trevelyan had put on a beautiful event, the hall decked out in some of Josephine's favourite colours. The woman herself was suddenly in front of her in a fine dress of red and gold silk when her father stopped. 

“Lady Trevelyan,” Yves Montilyet said, his arms stretched out, one reaching behind Josephine and urging her forward. She smiled at the older woman.

“May I present my daughter – Lady Josephine Cherette Montilyet.”

On cue Josephine curtseyed – a well practised move as her father watched on pleased with her perfect manners.

“A pleasure.”

“I am so glad you've been able to attend one of my balls dear Josephine,” Lady Trevelyan said, taking her hand. “Allow me to introduce you to my son Maxwell Trevelyan.”

She paused looking around her and dropped Josephine's hand. She took a few steps to the right and grabbed the collar of a young dark haired man. He allowed her to drag him back over to Josephine and her father – something she considered a little undignified but this was the Free Marches – before letting go and straightening him out. Josephine grinned at the young man who looked no older than herself. Maybe nineteen. He gave her a cocky grin back his dark hair flopping over his forehead a little and he pushed it back.

“Maxwell Trevelyan,” she said. “My son just came of age.”

Older than he looked, Josephine realised, if he was already twenty-one. But then, people often assumed she was of age when she was only eighteen. Looks were deceptive but he looked like fun.

“Maxwell, this is Lord Montilyet and his daughter Lady Josephine Montilyet,” she continued.

The young man took her hand and gently kissed her knuckled.

“A pleasure to meet you Lady Montilyet,” he said giving her a quick wink before straightening up and turning to her father. “Wonderful to see you again Messere, the Lady Montilyet unable to join us this season?”

“I'm afraid not. Both Yvette and Frederic have the Orlisian pox.”

“Oh my, how awful,” Lady Trevelyan said, “you must send her my regards.”

“I will Lady Trevelyan.”

The two adults picked up another thread of conversation and Josephine noted Maxwell had already slipped away silently. She smiled and did the same, disappearing back into the crowd.

Later she spotted him again as she hid on the balcony, tired of the Ostwick nobility and their poor imitation of the great Orlesian game. She wasn't always a fan of that either but this attempt to copy it, playing at the watered down version with people she barely knew with consequences she didn't understand was frustrating. She needed a break.

Maxwell passed by the balcony and she grabbed his arm and pulled him through the thick heavy curtains. He gave a little yelp and tripped, falling into her arms. She laughed and straightened him up.

“Serah Trevelyan,” she said.

“Lady Montilyet,”

That cocky grin was infections, and she smiled back.

“Hiding Lady Montilyet?” he asked.

“Please, call me Josephine.”

“Max,” he said, “and please, answer the question.”

“I tire of the politics when I don't know the players and the parties.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her, dark eyes connecting with her own and she smiled sweetly, feeling a little blush high on her cheeks.

“I could educate you. Give you information about all the major Ostwick players.”

“I think we can find something much more interesting to do Maxwell,” she said with a smile, taking his hand. 

“Max,” he corrected, letting her pull him forward gently by his shirt front. He grinned back and she kissed him lightly, nipping his bottom lip making his groan.

“Come with me,” he said voice low and taking her hand.

He held on tight and pulled her through the ballroom, avoiding their parents and grabbing a bottle of wine form a table as he passed. Josephine laughed, chasing him out of the room and up some stairs.

They came to a room and Maxwell shut the door behind them. He went to open the wine when Josephine stopped him, grabbing him and kissing him solidly. She pushed him up against the door, making him groan and wrap his arms around her so he could spin them around to swap positions. She laughed again pushing his jacket off and to the floor.

“Have you done this before?” she asked, kissing beneath his ear, hands rucking his silk shirt from his pants.

“Brought a strange Antivan girl up to my room in the middle of a party?”

“I am not a strange Antivan girl!” Josephine cried haughtily.

“I apologise my lady,” he says, stepping back and bowing with a flourish.

She laughs and grabs at him to pull him back to her. She kisses him again, one hand in his dark messy hair to hold him to her, her other hand snaking around his waist. Embraced like that Max manoeuvred them over to his bed. He went to the ribbons at the back of her gown and Josephine grinned against his lips. Pulling back from the kissed she pushed him hard, forcing him to sit on the bed before she took a step back.

“The ribbons are for show,” she explained.

Maxwell didn't answer, watching as she started undoing dome tiny buttons hidden at her side. She let the dark blue dress fall to the floor standing before him in only her small clothes. #he reached out to take her hand, pulling her between his legs.

“You are -” he took a breath. “You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.”

Josephine blushed at his words.

“And just how many naked women have seen Serah?”

He chuckled.

“A few.”

“Hmmmm.”

He pulled her forward so that she straddled him and he kissed her again – a quick peck on her lips before dotting kisses down to her breasts. She moaned softly, holding his head to her and stroking her fingers through his dark hair.

“Maxwell,” she groaned, shifting her hips forward against the bulge in his trousers. 

“Max,” he corrected around her nipple, biting down lightly on it for good measure. She squealed the sound broken on a laugh and he let her pull open his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. She ran her hands up his arms and over his chest. 

“You use a great-sword,” she said almost conversationally, shifting in his lap again back and forth a little making him moan.

“You can tell?” he asked.

“Sometimes a great-axe,” she added. She started up a slow rhythm in his lap, feeling the pressure on her centre even through his soft trousers and her small clothes. “Both arms are large, where as young men who use swords and shields are slightly disproportionate as they don't think to work both arms just the sword arm.”

“Is that so?” he said with a grunt. She raked her nails down his chest before pressing her own to his and kissing him.

“Uh-huh.”

“Antivan's use rapiers, learning to use both arms in case of disarmament. And daggers of course,” she said with a sigh, feeling his hands on her breasts again. She started working the laces of his trousers shifting back a little to give herself more room.

“How do you know so much?” he asked, watching her slip off his lap, pulling him up to strip him of his trousers and small clothes.

She shrugged looking down at him and smiled. He was sizeable and she delighted in it, taking his erection in her hand, squeezing gently. He groaned and took her hand from him, pulling her around the bed to lie on it fully, pressing his body against hers, erection pressing into her centre again and she moaned, arching her hips up into his.

“Maker,” he hissed.

She chuckled, breathy and shifting her hips again. He ran his hands down her body and into her small clothes fingers ghosting over her clit and into the slick heat of her centre.

“Oh, maker,” she muttered, pressing her hips up into his fingers. “More.”

He kissed her on the lips, sliding his fingertip up over her clit and back down again, grinning at her as she groaned again. 

“Don't tease ser-AH,” she managed to get out, the word catching as he slid a finger into her body. He pulled his hand clean away to her disappointment and started to remove her small clothes, dropping them to the floor when they were free of her legs and moving back on top of her. He urged her legs up and around her waist, pushing his erection into her but missing her wet entrance. She giggled as he tried again but still missed, his cheeks turning bright red. She reached down again and squeezed his hard erection in her hand, pressing him into her.

“Holy Void,” he muttered pushing his hips forward until he was fully inside her. “Josephine?” he asked hearing a hiss of pain.

“Hmmmm,” she said, biting her lip. “You were a little quick.”

He went to pull back, pull out with a snap of his hips but she tightened her legs around him holding him to her.

“No, it's fine,” she said, wriggling her hips a little and making them both moan.

“You have done this before right?” he asked suddenly.

She smiled at him, one hand bringing his head back down to kiss him.

“More than you evidently,” she said, and he glared at her.

“Hey, I'm a good chantry boy,” he protested, trying not to laugh, the motion shaking his body. They both moaned at the slight movement.

“You can start moving now,” she said, a little breathless all of a sudden and he kissed her before thrusting into her, slowly and shallowly at first and she arched up against him, urging him deeper with each thrust. 

“Ho- oh Josie.”

“Josephine,” she corrected with a grin, but he ignored her, whispering Josie again as he started a quick rhythm into her body, hands on her hips and dipping his head to press kisses to her neck. Josephine threw her head back as the pleasure built, her body tight around him as his erection pressed deep inside her with every thrust in.

“M-ore,” she sighed.

“More what?” Max asked, looking up her her flushed face. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open as she started to pant slightly.

“Everything,” she replied one on particularly hard breath and he chuckled, grabbing her hips. He used a great-sword, Josephine thought to herself, he has strength in those arms and she smiled at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Harder. I know you can go harder my lord,” she said, voice soft and low, arching her hips high and hard up to meet his. 

“Fuck,” he grunted. “Your wish is my command my lady.”

He started to put more effort into his thrusts, gripping her left hip tightly and hooking his other arm beneath her and holding onto her shoulder. The move forced him deeper into her body and she cried out, arching up into him as he started a quick rhythm. She could come like this, she knew, especially as he really started to move, feeling every drag and pull of his erection in her slick entrance. Every push and shove. He started to grunt with the effort, his hair in his eyes again but he barely noticed, barely noticed anything except the tight heat of her body as he moved. 

“C-close?” he asked suddenly.

She shook her head. 

“Need -” she couldn't quite get the words out and then he was coming inside her, hot seed spilling deep into her body, Maxwell calling out her name again and shaking above her. She frowned, grumbling to herself as she collapsed to her side, untangling herself, but unable to help the quiet moan as he slipped from her sensitised body.

“Sorry, my lady,” he muttered, bright red, “you.” He didn't finish his sentence, instead kissing her on the cheek and sweeping a hand down her body. “Forgive me.”

He pressed a hand to her centre, now soaking with her arousal and his seed as it dripped from her body. She jerked her hips up into his touch and without wasting time circled around her swollen clit with the tip of his finger. He bent over to take a nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue before sucking. She cried out again, holding his head to her breast again, and reaching down to guide his movements with her other hand.

“Like that?” he asked. She nodded and he nipped her breast above her nipple, making her squeal and she would've blushed embarrassed by the noise but she was too close and he was relentless, the touch perfect now she was guiding him and but she needed a little more. Taking his hand she pushed two of his fingers into her body and started to move her body a little faster, fucking herself on his hand.

“Holy Maker Josie,” he grunted into her breast, watching her hips move back and forth.

“Josephine,” she breathed. He laughed. “Curl your fingers,” she told him. He frowned but did as she asked. 

“Like that?” he asked, sitting up a little to concentrate on what he was doing with his hand.

“Yes, now,” she paused to take a breath. “Press.”

He frowned, but did as she asked, and almost jumped out of his skin when she wailed. She giggled, one hand still on his wrist, uncurling his thumb and guiding it back to her clit

“Again, rub,” she told him, and he did so, rubbing that spot roughly, his thumb pressing down on her clit, making her wail over and over until she was coming hard on his hand. “Maxwell,” she cried shaking beneath him.

“Fucking Void,” he said, leaning down to kiss her, hands still caressing her centre. 

“Stop, stop,” she whimpered, tugging at his hand. He allowed her to pull his fingers from her body, the digits sticky with their fluids, she pulled it up to her mouth and licked them clean much to his surprise. His face was shocked.

“I don't know what just happened,” he said. 

She laughed, pulling him down to kiss him and share their mixed taste on her lips and tongue. He groaned, fitting his body along hers, relaxing.

“You've never brought a woman to orgasm before?” she asked.

“No, I have, I meant...the thing with my fingers and then the licking and...” he trailed off.

“Oh dear Maxwell, we are a good chantry boy aren't we?”

“Apparently.”

“There are many secrets yet to learn about women,” she said, kissing him. 

“Well, perhaps you can teach me a few more before the night is done.”

“Perhaps,” she smiled, “pour the wine first.”


	2. Welcome To Haven

Josephine nearly tripped over when she saw who Cassandra and Cullen had brought back to the village. He had been limp in their arms when they'd carried him into the little house, a dozen people immediately surrounding him and she had kept her distance as the healers and Solas made sure he was alive and would live this time. 

So when things calmed down she went along to check on the young man herself – said to be a young noble from Ostwick.

She never expected it to be Maxwell Trevelyan.

Maker, but it was him, pale, his hand glowing green and his hair much shorter but him. 

“Lady Montilyet?” Adan said, setting a potion down.

“Oh, I'm sorry, am I interrupting?” she asked, skittering away from the bed.

“Not at all,” he said. 

“Will he be okay?” she asked, taking a step closer once more.

“He'll be fine,” he said curtly, applying another poultice to the man's forehead. “He should wake up naturally, and soon, and I should be able to attend to my other duties.”

“We all appreciate your dedication to your patients Adan.”

He grumbled something in reply before leaving again, and Josephine moved to look at him a little more closely. The young man was definitely still there, but older now, a few more lines and a couple of scars. She wondered what he had been doing since she had last seen him, a decade had been by and she hadn't seen him hadn't been back to the Trevelyan's estate since that night. She hadn't even thought about him for years. 

Here he was, a sign from the Maker, their only hope to saving the world.

Josephine wasn't sure how she felt about it, but then, she only knew the young man with the cocky grin.

She was in the War Room they had set up in the back of the Chantry with Cullen and Leliana, discussing the change in the sky and what else they needed to do first when Cassandra walked in being Maxwell Trevelyan with her. Josephine smiled at him, remaining behind the massive table, amused at the shocked looked on his face as he turned to look at her as Cassandra introduced them.

“Josie!”

“Josephine,” she corrected making him smile, that same crooked grin she remembered gracing his features. “Your Herald.”

“You two are acquainted?” Cassandra asked.

“Inti-” Maxwell started.

“Yes!” Josephine said over him, knowing what he was about to say, frowning.

“We met at one of my mother's summer balls.”

“A long time ago,” Josephine added. Leliana was grinning at her, and the ambassador fought the urge to groan – her friend had already figured everything out. Even Cullen had a slight curve to his lips. 

“I can't believe you're here,” he said. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, seeing he was still pale. 

“I'm well – I mean, relatively speaking of course.”

She smiled, he was fine. 

“I will write a letter to your family, let them know what has happened,” she told him. “Your mother will be worried.”

“Thank you,” he said with a slight bow. “I appreciate that.”

He looked her over, and she felt a blush at his scrutiny. He hadn't changed she realised and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. She had liked that cocky young man but things were different now, things were serious. She was different now.

“Perhaps we can catch up later,” she said, looking to Cassandra next him, her starting to scrunch a little. 

“I'd like that,” he said with a softer smile she hadn't seen on him when he was a young man. She smiled back and turned the meeting back to the matter in hand – the end of the world.

There wasn't much room in Haven for privacy. She shared a room with Leliana and Minaeve, who she also shared the little hallway she called an office. It was enough, though she missed her private offices in the embassy sometimes.

“Nice office,” Maxwell said, walking in and looking around. “Not where I expected to find you though Josie.” He pulled his great sword from his back and sat on the edge of her desk, looking her over again.

“Josephine,” she corrected, making him smile. “Herald.”

“Max,” he said, with a grin. “What are you doing here Josie?”

She looked over at Minaeve who was talking to another young mage, the two of them consulting something in a book. 

“Sister Leliana asked me to join the inquisition as it's lead diplomat.”

“You believe in all this Herald of Andraste crap?” he asked.

“I believe in stopping the war and saving the world,” she told him, aware that Mineave and the other scholar were paying attention now. 

He frowned. 

“I don't know what I'm doing here Josie,” he said, quietly and she had never seen him look like that before. 

Young.

She didn't even correct the use of her nickname this time, and instead stood up, leaving her work on the desk.

“Come with me,” she said softly.

He placed his sword on his back and followed her out of the chantry and into the little house he had been given as his own – as the Herald of Andraste. She signalled for him to sit down, and he did so, on the edge of the bed, the great sword leaning up against the wall. She moved around the little room, boiling some water for tea, ignoring the way he watched her so carefully. She wasn't really sure what she was doing but this, caring for someone, was second nature. She was the eldest of five after all.

“Here,” she said after a while, handing him a mug of tea. “It will help.”

“Tea?”

“It will help,” she insisted, sitting down on the edge of the bed with him, making sure there was some space. She needed to get a sofa for him – she couldn't be seen sitting in bed with the Herald.

He smiled.

“It's good to see you Josie,” he said. “I thought about you.”

She snorted.

“I doubt that.”

“You don't believe me?” he asked. She shook her head and he chuckled. “I thought about you every time I got a woman off. Hell I thought about you every time I got myself off.”

“Herald!” she cried, jumping to her feet.

“Max,” he corrected.

“That's not appropriate,” she hissed, flushing red.

“What?!” he said, laughing again. 

“I – I am not that girl any more.”

She stood up, holding onto her tea. She could feel the flush of her cheeks burning and remembered the young woman she used to be but that was a long time ago. Before Val Royeaux, before she was due to take over her family, before the end of the world.

“What happened?” he asked. 

She frowned. He should have changed too. Perhaps he had. 

“Does it hurt?”

“Are you changing the subject? Or genuinely interested?”

“Both,” she said, “Does it hurt?”

He looked down at it, the glow reflecting off the pale skin of his face making him look a little sick. 

“It burns. Well, not always. It tingles mostly but sometimes there's this burn and I feel like cutting my hand off.” 

“You need your hand Herald.”

“Please call me Max.”

“That's not appropriate,” she said. 

“Screw appropriate!” 

She frowned, he might've changed but she hadn't know him very well. One night a decade ago did not mean she meant this man. Not then and not now. 

“I should go,” she said, putting her tea down on the side. “If there is anything you wish to add to the letter to your family before I send it please let me know.”

She went to leave and Max jumped up, knocking his sword over to stop her from leaving, hand tight on her arm but his grip slipping slightly on the golden silk of her sleeve.

“Please, Josephine, I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean to offend you.”

“We don't know each other very well Herald. We never did,” she said tuning back around.

“I know, I know.” He lets go of her, and picks his sword back up. He looks sad again. Young. “I was so glad to see someone I know. A friendly face. I just lost a lot of family members and have a weird green light in my hand and I'm a fucking religious icon expected to help a religious movement gain power and influence. I spent the last ten years of my life protecting the Ostwick Chantry from bandits and low-lifes! I haven't left the Free Marches for eight years.”

“You lost family?” she asked.

“Cousins, an aunt, two uncles.”

“I didn't know.”

“No one thought to fucking ask.”

The anger made him older, but not much and she reached out and took him hand, squeezing it slightly. 

“I'm sorry Maxwell, I should've known.”

“Max,” he told her with a small smile.

She smiled, reaching out to taking his hand.

“How can I help?

“Be my friend?” he asked. She nodded, letting go of his hand.

“I think I can do that Herald.”

“Ugh, and stop calling me Herald,” he said, hand on his face. “Please.”

“What about Your Worship?” she asked with a grin.

“Only in bed Josie,” he said, with a wink and she blushed red.

“Not going to happen Herald,” she said sternly.

“It's like I don't know you at all,” Max said with laugh.

“You never did,” she said. “But we can change that.”

“Starting now,” he said, sitting back down on the bed and patting the space beside him. She sighed but picked up her cup of tea again and sat down. 

“We need to get you a settee,” she said. “I can't be seen sitting on your bed.”

“You weren't always so concerned about propriety,” he said, “What happened?”

“Many things,” she said, “I spent many years in Val Royeaux as the Antivan ambassador to the Orlesian court and playing the great game. Much is made about propriety and court approval,” she said.

“Sounds boring.”

She laughed, and then flushed as she noted how he was watching her. He still looked at her like she was 18 again, that same look he had on his face when they had first slept together that night. She hadn't forgotten it. Forgotten him. It had been a fun and satisfying evening after all.

“The great game is not boring. The Great Game is full of intrigue and danger. You will see for yourself I'm sure.”

“It's dangerous?” She nodded. “The nobles in Ostwick definitely didn't do anything dangerous. Or interesting.”

“I'm sure they did. The night I was there I noted several affairs, two death threats and an attempted kidnapping.”

“Really?” He turned to face her, enraptured by her and she remembered what had attracted her to him in the first place. She was in trouble if she still found him attractive after all this time an despite his position as the Herald. “I didn't notice any of that?”

“That is because you were too busy avoiding your mother I suspect.”

He laughed and reached out to put a hand on her leg, and she hesitated, unsure whether she should move it or not. Because it was warm and solid through the soft material of her clothes and damn him. She took his hand and picked it up, placing it back on his own leg.

“Sorry,” he said, to her surprise. “Do you think my mother played.”

“Oh I have no doubt that Lady Trevelyan played her part in the Ostwick version of the game.”

“I don't know how I feel about that.”

She smiled. 

“She played well. You should be happy.”

“Do you have time? To tell me more about this?” he asked, and she was aware of the work she had left on her desk to come here and comfort him.

“A little,” she said, commissioning with herself. 

“Good,” he said with a bright smile.

A genuine smile.


	3. Making Friends

Josephine was pretty sure they were friends.

They certainly acted like friends, but it was hard to her to tell because every interaction was filled with reminders of their past together and laced with flirtations. And he flirted with everyone – including Minaeve. The young mage had developed a bit of a crush on Solas though, and found his attentions a little annoying but did appreciate the endless items he gave her to help in her research. 

Josephine wasn't sure how she felt about the flirting either. The flirting with her or with Minaeve. She so often wished he would take her seriously but then he would be serious and it overwhelmed her a little.

“Do you ever leave your desk?” Maxwell asked, leaning against it, wrinkling some of her papers.

“Yes. I do sleep.”

“I know for a fact you sleep at your desk,” he said with that cocky grin he hadn't grown out of. The cocky grin she still seem to be attracted too. He chuckled even as she gave him a disapproving frown and pulled the papers from beneath his bottom. 

“I do not!” she said, feeling the blush on her cheeks, eyeing Minaeve who was leaning on her table smiling.

“I've caught you there Josie,” he told her, “who do you think it covering you with a blanket?” 

Josephine looked over at Minaeve who just nodded, and she frowned. She hadn't been expecting that and snapped at him.

“Well thank you but it's not necessary.”

“I know it's not, but we're friends, I care about you,” he grumbled back, “not that you make it easy,” he added.

“I'm going for a walk,” Minaeve said, slipping out of the door and leaving them alone. 

“What's wrong Josie? I thought we were friends.”

“Josephine,” she corrected. 

“Josie,” he continued, ignoring her. “You support me, advise me – I mean, I went to the mages on your recommendation – I'm just trying to do the same for you.”

He reached out and took her hand, that serious look back on her face and for a moment she thought he might kiss her.

She wasn't completely against the idea.

She gasped, surprising herself and pulled her hand away.

“I appreciate you looking out for me Herald,” she said and Max groaned.

“I thought I'd managed to convince you to call me Max when we're alone.”

“Maxwell,” she corrected him. 

“You're going to be calling me Maxwell when we're old and grey aren't you.”

“Yes,” she told him, trying not to wonder about what he was implying. Or not implying.

“Good thing you're so beautiful Josie,” he said with a grin.

She threw her quill at him. Suddenly feeling a lot more light hearted about him – because of him. 

Damn him.

“Herald,” she said with a grin and he groaned again. “I'm sure you have more important duties to be attending to than distracting me from mine.”

“Fine, fine, I know when I'm not wanted,” he said, and she smiled. “I actually just came to say goodbye. I'm going to meet this Iron Bull on the Storm Coast.”

“Oh, you will be careful won't you.”

The words slipped free without her usual filter, the tone too, and he smiled warmly at her as he stood.

“I'm the Herald of Andraste,” he said, “A Trevelyan, a great swordsman, and the best lover you will ever have.”

She scoffed and he laughed.

“All true,” he added.

“Oh really?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Yep, I mean, you taught me everything I know.”

“Maxwell, if you have not learnt anything else since you were 21 I believe I am going to be sorely disappointed.”

“Perhaps I'll show when I get back,” he said, taking her hand again and this time going to kiss it. She laughed, pulling it away.

“I think not,” she said.

“Damn.”

He finally stood and headed out, but she stopped him at the door.

“Do be careful,” she said, not smiling this time.

“Ah so you do care,” he said grinning.

“No, I would just hate to be the one to tell your mother you've lost a limb fighting giants on the Storm Coast. She thinks you preach to the masses about the Maker.” 

“If she really knew what I did she would be down here demanding I be careful and calling me Maxwell as well. I don't need two of you bossing me around,” he said.

“I'll see you soon...Maxwell.”

“One day you'll be screaming Max,” he said with a wink walking out the door.

“In frustration!” she called after him.

She could hear him laughing all the way out of the chantry and it made her smile, even if the rest of him confused her no end.

He came back with a Qunari spy and his mercenary group, several interesting items for Minaeve, a lot of bruises from fighting the giant and flowers. For Josephine. They were on her desk with a note with Josie written on it. Other than Maxwell, only Leliana called her Josie, only Leliana knew her well enough to call her Josie. She moved them to the little room in the chantry she shared with Leliana and Seeker Pentaghast.

“The Herald brought you flowers,” Leliana said, fingering the petal of one where they sat on the little beside table between their beds, twirling the note he had left in her hand. 

“From the Storm Coast, yes,” she said, not looking at her friend.

“Well, I do not suppose there is much to get a lady from the Storm Coast.”

“That's what he said yes,” Josephine said, snatching the note back and shoving it into her drawer. Leliana chuckled.

“What else did he say?” she asked.

“About what?”

“About the flowers Josie.”

“I didn't ask him anything about them. I know everything I need to know.”

“You know why he bought them for you.”

Josephine frowned at her, Leliana still idly playing with the flowers.

“I know why he bought them Leliana,” she said, “he is trying to get into my sm-” she paused, “into my bed again.” The spy chuckled. 

“And you're against this.”

“Yes, it's inappropriate,” she said. 

“Is that the only matter of contention?”

“I am very busy Leliana, aren't you tired?”

“Yes, but now I find I am much more interested in how you feel about our dear Herald.”

“I feel little,” Josephine said, looking away from her once more and to the flowers on her drawer, “I respect him and I...admire him.”

“Hmmmm.” 

Leliana stood up straight then, a grin on her face, starting to remove her mail.

“When you are ready to talk about it properly my dear you know where to find me.”

“In the next bed as always my friend, but there is nothing to talk about.”

There was plenty to talk about. Josephine just wasn't sure how to process it all and she was tired. Always tired. She crawled into her bed and closed her eyes, listening to Leliana hum to herself as she undressed. She fell asleep to the sound of her friends voice, memories of their time in Val Royeaux bubbling up in her mind.

“I bought you flowers to thank you,” Max said, settling down on the edge of her desk as usual and folding his arms. Minaeve was gone, out in the village, and he had let the door slam shut behind him to get her attention.  
She frowned at him, sitting back in her chair to see him better.

“For what?”

“For being my friend,” h said a little confused himself it seemed. “I appreciate your support Josie, your friendship means a lot to me.”

That serious tone again, not a hint of a smile or a joke and when she didn't reply he sighed and went to leave.

“I just thought -”

“I know what you thought, I spoke to Leliana.” 

“I'm sorry Herald,” she said, “Maxwell,” she corrected herself. “I didn't mean to offend you.”

“It's okay.” 

He smiled then, reaching out to take her hand. She accepted, letting him squeeze her hand before letting go and relaxing a little.

“I will admit, I would love to spend another night with you, but your friendship – my gratitude – does not hinge on it.”

“I'm glad,” she said, “and I'm sorry to have made such a crass assumption.”

“So,” he said after a fashion, “what are my chances of getting into your smalls?”

She threw a mostly empty inkwell at him, splashing a few drops over her desk and hitting his armour. He laughed at her, leaning over and kissing her on the top of her head. She blushed bright red. 

“Thank you Josie,” he said softly. 

She didn't bother to correct him as he left.


	4. Goodbye Haven

When Corypheus came Josephine had fallen to sleep at her desk after a long day of writing letters to their various supports. She had been trying to update everyone after the Herald had closed the breach when dozed off. She was sure she was dreaming at first, bells being rung and people celebrating permeating her sleep, a blanket around her shoulders as usual. 

Then she started to register the screams through the thick chantry walls, the shouting inside the inside the holy building itself. She jumped out of her chair, knocking it to the floor and ran out into the main halls.

There was chaos.

The families and some of the lay sisters were running around in a panic, Cleric Roderick was at the door urging people inside the building with the aid of a young man in a oversized hat she'd never seen before. She couldn't see any further, couldn't see any of her friends in the chantry, Leliana, the Herald... She ran to her room, weaving through the small growing crowd and managed to get inside to collect her rapier and dagger, hooking them both into the sash around her waist in lieu of anything proper. She hadn't really been expecting to use them as a mere ambassador now she was out of Orlais and away from the Great Game but she kept them close by just in case.

Just in case of times like this.

Fighting through the scared people in the chantry hall, and pushing past the boy and Roderic, she stumbled out into the snow and looked to see the fire lights coming down the mountain, the army holding them, hundreds of them, more...She shook off her fear and went looking for Leliana in her tent not finding the Spymaster there but not surprised either.

She took off in a run and got to the gates, finding Cullen shouting at people to get inside. 

“Ambassador!” he cried. “You should be in the chantry.”

“What's happening?” she asked, “where is Leliana? The Herald.”

“Leliana and Varric are on the wall,” he said, pointing to two figures high up on the outer wall, taking long shots at the approachers.”

“And the Herald?”

“I'm here!” Maxwell said, running through the gate, Iron Bull, Sera and Solas on his heels. “Josie what are you doing out here?”

She ignored the question, trying to get a glimpse through the village gates at the approaching army. All she could see was red before they were closed and secured before her.

“You should be in the chantry,” maxwell said, grabbing one of her arms and spinning her around to face him. “It's safer there.”

“I can help. Fight.”

“We don't know who we're up against, go with Cullen to the chantry, please,” he pleaded with her and she almost relented at the tone but she frowned instead, angry.

“I know how to fight, these are not toys,” she said, shaking free of his grasp. 

“Please Josie.”

“Josephine!” she corrected haughtily.

“Really now?” he asked.

“Is it because I am a woman? A lady? A noble like you?” she asked, growling slightly. She hated the way she sounded when she was mad but she no time for is heroics or his chivalry when she could help. 

“No, none of this things,” he said, looking pointedly at Sera and Cassandra, who had just joined them, “it is not that.”

“Then why?”

She put her hands on her hips, tapping the rapier against her leg.

“Because I don't know your skills! I don't know how well you can fight! How you can fight!” he cried. “I need to know I can trust you in battle and now is not the time to find out.”

She hesitated then, dropping her hands.

“I promise, when we get out of this mess, you can show me what you've got but for now, please, go to the chantry. Protect the people in there.” He smiled then, reaching out to take her hand again, squeezing it tight around the handle of her sword. “Please Josephine.”

“Very well,” she conceded with a curt nod, blushing slightly with embarrassment. She should've considered more than just her own skills. “Please be careful Maxwell,” she added quietly.

“And you Josie.” 

He let go of her then, breaking into a run towards the trebuchets with the other behind him. She watched for a moment, glancing at Varric and Leliana as they started to climb down from the outer wall to join them. 

“Come Lady Ambassador,” Cullen said, “help me protect the civilians.”

She nodded, and started to run after him back through the village. 

Later she would apologise she promised herself.

If they had a later.

x

 

They had lost the Herald and they were lost.

Josephine could hardly breathe. It took all her energy not to cry, she was pretty sure Leliana was pulling her up the mountain. The Iron Bull had always swept her up and carried her for a little while – but when she had come to she had insisted on climbing the Frostbacks under her own steam. Not that she was sure this counted. Now he was carrying two children, which she considered much more important. All the Chargers were carrying children or injured, as the boy, Cole she had discovered, flitted around them all 'helping', whatever he meant by that. Everyone felt calm though, the injured did not groan, the children did not cry. She supposed that was enough for now, the silence that had descended them as they trudged through the snow was soothing. 

“We should make camp,” she heard someone say, Cullen perhaps. It was hard to tell with the wind whirling around them. It could've just as easily been Leliana. 

“Around the next turn,” someone else replied. 

There seemed to be some sort of agreement and they continued fighting the wind and snow until they were following the winding path through the mountains and suddenly the wind wasn't so bad and the snow seemed to settle and then they were stopping and Josephine dropped to the ground.

“Are we done?” she asked, voice too low to be heard she was sure.

“For now Josie,” Leliana answered, pulling her back to her feet. “But we need to get you out of the snow, onto dryer ground.”

“I'm fine,” she grumbled.

“You're frozen and exhausted.”

She let her friend lead her over to the side of the mountain, lining her up with some of the others who were asleep on their feet too. She wanted to be stronger than this, like Leliana, like she had been trying to convince Maxwell but then fighting was much different to mountain climbing and she really wasn't wearing any of the right clothes.

“And you were always the stronger one,” she said, unaware she spoke out loud and Leliana huffed. 

“Shush now Josie,” she said, “here take this and come sit by the fire.”

She handed her a blanket and urged her over to the small fire a mage had started, Solas perhaps, or the boy Cole. Was he a mage? What was he? She settled down by the fire, half watching as Iron Bull settled some of the children around the warm flames. Leliana settled down too, and Josephine leaned her head on her shoulder and closed her eyes to the rest of the Haven survivors.

“Do you think he survived?” she asked, after a moment.

“Go to sleep,” Leliana said softly, “I will find out soon enough for you.”

With a movement she thought might be a nod Josephine fell to sleep.

Josephine woke to shouting again, screaming she thought, the blanket around her shoulders once more and she panicked, not wanting to relive any of the last night. She jumped to her feet almost falling over, looking to see what the commotion was. They were still in the mountains, still running from an unknown foe, an unknown army, and still lost. 

A small crowd led by Cullen was coming into the little valley they had inhabited, Iron Bull behind carrying someone.

Someone familiar.

She gasped and ran up to them, fighting through the others as they crowded around trying to see, trying to help, trying to be there when only she needed to be there. Only she needed to see him. She was sure of it. 

“Is he?” Someone yelled and no one answered.

“Please, I must,” she trailed off as she tumbled through the last wall of people and fell onto her knees in front of Cullen and Bull, looking up at them. 

At him.

“Is he alive?” she asked, not quite sure they could even hear her. 

“He's alive,” Cullen said, helping her up to her feet. “Come, we'll take him to a tent, Solas and Dorian are waiting.”

She looked at the young man in the Qunari's arms and wanted to reach out and swipe the fringe from his eyes. Unconscious in Bull's large arms he looked so young again, his hair had been growing long again and he looked so small. Not the man she had come to know and not even the young man she had first met.

“Quickly,” she said, leading them now with purpose, feeling herself awake and alive for the first time since they'd left Haven. 

In the nearest tent they laid him on a cot and Cullen took Bull to deal with the other survivors as they tried to get closer and find out what had happened to their Herald. She understood that feeling, as Leliana came and stood by her and watched out as Solas inspected the young man. 

“Bring in a brazier,” he said, “he needs to be kept warm. I believe he mostly exhausted rather than injured. Bruised perhaps.”

Josephine took a sigh of relief and went to fetch a spare brazier, bringing into the tent and setting it down as close to Maxwell as she considered safe before letting the mage light it. She watched as the fire lit up his face, pale and still and she felt a little sick at the sight of him but couldn't look away.

Wouldn't look away.

Solas covered his head with his hands and she felt the pulse of magic before she saw it, a wave of light over the man's skin, quick and warm. The elf stood back and nodded.

“That should help with any pain, but I sense no real injury.”

“Thank you,” Josephine said with a small smile, moving closer to the cot. 

“We should let everyone know, rumour will be rife,” Leliana was saying behind her but Josephine ignored her and found the blanket she had discarded earlier and settled it on the ground next to the cot before dropping it down onto the floor.

“I will let them know what has transpired,” Mother Giselle said, softly and Josephine turned to see the chantry mother standing in the doorway to the large tent. “We will pray for him.”

Josephine turned her attention back to Maxwell, wondering if she could touch him, hold his hand. Wipe the dirt from his brow. They were friends after all and he needed a friend right now. She needed a friend right now.

On cue, she felt Leliana's hand on her shoulder.

“He will be fine Josephine,” she said softly. 

“I hope so.”

When he woke she had fallen to sleep again, another blanket on her shoulders, the one she'd spread over him hours before. She looked to see him smiling at her, a little more colour in his cheeks now and that spark in his eyes.

“You were cold,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, pulling it tighter around her.

“You could always come cuddle up on cot with me?”

“No thank you,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. He was fine. “What happened?” 

“The Elder One, he was there, and an Archdemon of all things,” he said sitting up. She shifted to the side a little, looking up at him as he spoke, feeling both relief and increasing fear. An Archdemon? There were places that still suffering from the effects of the Blight, Leliana had the worst stories, the worst nightmares about it all. “I managed to bury his army. And myself. He got away on the Archdemon.”

“I'm glad you're okay,” she said, reaching over and placing her hand on his knee, squeezing it. He covered her hand with his and smiled back.

“He said the anchor was a mistake, an accident.”

“Serendipity,” she told him, getting up to sit next to him. Her smiled at her.

“The maker's will.” 

“Perhaps.”

Yelling started up outside the tent and Josephine groaned, looking over as Cassandra, Cullen and Leliana started up another disagreement. 

“They've been arguing for hours,” she said, knowing she would be too if it weren't for her vigil next to Maxwell. “I don't think any of them slept.”

“Go,” he said, patting her knee. “Go sort it out.”

She hesitated, not wanting to leave his side. She worried about him still, and there was much to worry about right now, but her friends arguing was getting louder and the shouting disturbing the other survivors.

“I'm fine,” he added as she finally stood. She handed him the blanket with a weak smile and headed out into the fray. Everyone was on edge, the tension of finding the Herald had faded now he was alive and well, and now there was nothing but mountains and a feeling of helplessness over the camp. They needed direction, Josephine knew that much. 

She found herself arguing with them until Cassandra had had enough, slamming her hands down on the table with a finality that had them all retreating except the seeker herself. Their anger dissipated and while Josephine was tempted to return to the tent and check on Maxwell – he seemed a little unsteady on his feet – she could see him talking to Mother Giselle now, listening to her words intently. She dropped down onto a bench by the fire, Leliana following and settling on the ground beside her, curling her arms around her knees.

“What will we do?” her friend asked quietly.

“We'll think of something,” Josephine said, we have supporters now, a few allies.”

“Need to get out of the mountains first,” Leliana said, “Maker preserve us.”

Josephine rested her head on her hands, wondering exactly why the Maker had done this, if he had, watching Maxwell and Mother Giselle finish their conversation. The young man looked over to her and gave her a small smile. She smiled back, and offered him the seat beside her with a nod of her head. He went to move when Mother Giselle starting singing a hymn, voice quiet but melodious at first. 

Then Leliana joined in, her voice as sweet and beautiful as Josephine remembered, and she smiled again, feeling something shift in the camp as a scout came to join in with the hymn, more behind her. 

And Cullen, Cullen could sing, and she felt it, felt a little hope then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr sometimes - anxiousgeek.tumblr.com - come say hi.


	5. Skill Set

Skyhold was beautiful.

Run down and dilapidated, but safe and sheltered and beautiful.

Josephine loved it. 

She'd settled herself well enough into the office she'd set up down the hallway from the new War Room. It had been a temporary quarters for her and Leliana at first, but now more of the keep was in better order they both had rooms of their own. She decided this was a decent enough place for an office, well positioned between the War Room and the Main Hall. She'd cleaned it up herself, even as many of the civilian workers offered to do it for her.

They had done enough for her already in Haven.

It was all coming along nicely though. She'd had one of the buildings turned into a tavern, had a forge set up, made sure everyone had permanent places to sleep. Including Maxwell, the Inquisitor, who had fit into his new role nicely she thought. He believed he could do it now, had confidence in his role as the Inquisitor.

She liked the confidence, liked that he didn't doubt himself as much as he did in Haven but she worried about how much of her support would he actually need now. If any.

She was pretty sure their friendship hinged on it. 

Except...except Maxwell still took her opinion to heart when they had meetings in the War Room, and now, now he was leaning on her desk again as if nothing had ever changed. His great-sword leaned against the fireplace, flames glinting off it. He smiled at her, the new confidence suited him well, as did the trim he'd had to his hair. 

“I'm glad you stopped by Inquisitor,” Josephine said, moving back in her chair a little to look at him better. “I haven't had a chance to ask you if your quarters are satisfactory.”

He chuckled then. 

“Josie they're amazing. Much more than I needed.”

“Josephine,” she corrected, “and no, you are the Inquisitor, you must have quarters that reflect your station here.”

“Really, it's too much,” he said, “but thank you, it's a lovely room.” 

“Good.”

She could feel the smile widen on her face, even as she tried to hold it back. She watched him as he reached into his pocket of his beige jacket tapping it against his side for a moment and some of the nervousness from before came back to his face. 

“I have something for you,” he said after a moment, standing up and pulling an amulet out of the pocket. 

“A gift?” she asked.

He moved around her desk standing over her, tall and imposing, but nervous.

“Of sorts,” he said. He took her hand and pressed the amulet into her palm. “A lifeward amulet, a very good one,” he added. “After Haven, I just...”

He trailed off as she examined the amulet, it was both beautiful, the runes etched deep and with a little flair into the silverite. It was something that could save her life if it came to it. 

“I know you can fight but I would just feel better knowing you had a back up plan.”

“You, um,” she could feel the blush starting up, not quite knowing why though and she handed it back to him. “Would you put it on for me?” she asked.

“Of course my lady,” he said, voice low and he moved around to stand behind her. He swept her hair to the side, and she had to suppress a gasp as his fingers brushed over her neck. He placed the amulet over her beast, pulling it up and dragging it slowly over the silk of her clothes to clasp it securely.

“Th-thank you Inquisitor,” she said, as he stepped away.

“Max,” he said, voice a little more confident again as he moved back to stand by the side of her desk. 

“Maxwell,” she said with a smile. He was flushed, she wasn't sure why and she started to mess around with the paperwork on her desk. 

“Perhaps later you can show me how Antivan nobles fight,” he said with a little wink and she smiled. 

“I would very much like that, I'm sure you'll be impressed, my mother has been instructing me how to use a rapier since I was six years old.”

“Your mother?” he asked, a little surprised.

“My father is an artist,” she told her, “he has some ability but no interest.”

“I'm keen to discover what your mother taught you,” he said.

“Any time Inquisitor.”

“I'll hold you to that Josie,” he said.

“Josephine,” she corrected and he chuckled.

“Sharpen your weapons Josephine,” he said. “I'll want to test your skills when I return from Crestwood.” 

She chuckled.

“Be careful Maxwell,” she said.

“Always am”

He grabbed his great-sword and left her fingering the amulet around her neck, the weight strange but welcome. 

x

Josephine changed out of her usual blues and golds, her usual silks and into something a little more practical for their fight. Leather leggings, boots, and a leather breast plate over a linen tunic. The change was dramatic, apparently, if the reactions were any indication. Maxwell seemed particularly affected and she smiled at him pulling her weapons from her waist, ignoring the blush and the prideful joy that bubbled up at the thought.

“You, ah, you look-” he hesitated looking around at the small group of soldiers and friends watching. “You look ready.”

She chuckled.

“Indeed I am Inquisitor.”

He nodded and lifted up a practice sword and shield that was leaning up against the ring and ushered her into the centre.

“You're not going to use your great-sword?” she asked.

“I did not think it fair,” he said. “It is enchanted after all.”

“I suppose,” she said with a shrug, “I just don't want you going easy on me Ma- Inquisitor,” she corrected herself. 

“I would never dream of it Ambassador.”

She chuckled. 

“So begin,” she said.

He bowed slightly, and took a moment before taking a swing at her with his longsword. She jumped aside easily, frowning, taking a swipe at him but missing. She spun and tried to trip him. He managed to step aside, and take another swing at her but she stopped the blade with the hilt and handle of her dagger and jabbed at him with rapier managing to get a hit in on his chest. He recoiled and everyone gasped. 

“Very nice,” he said with a laugh.

She gave a quick bow, jumping back when he tried to hit her with another Shield Bash, still smiling as he did so. He put more force into it a second time, rolling and smacking the shield against her side and sending her backwards. She kept her balance though and when he went after her again she threw something to the floor and disappeared. 

“What the?”

Josephine could hear Leliana laughing. She smiled to herself, knowing Maxwell couldn't see her expression and quietly moved around him. It had been a while since she had been in stealth mode and she rounded Maxwell and thrust forward with all her strength to his chest, with a quick swipe with her dagger to cut his cheek. It was barely a scratch but enough to surprise him. She wanted to laugh but she was too busy concentrating on the fight now, trying to figure out his next move. She spun away from his next move, to the other side of the ring but was caught by his grappling chain and he yanked hard, pulling her forward. She collided with him with a gasp, chest to chest all of a sudden.. 

He hesitated before his next move, looking down at her and she titled her head up, feeling a heat rise in her cheeks again.

“Josie,” he murmured. 

She sighed, smiling.

“Josephine,” she corrected, getting free of the chain and whirling around him, slapping her rapier on his backside with a chuckled, the crowd watching laughing with her.

“You'll pay for that Lady Ambassador,” he told her.

“If you say so My Lord,” she said. 

He gave her a smile before a lunge and slash, rolling around, and doing the same again. He connected both times, a grimace on her face as she yelled out in surprised and pain, falling tot he floor. She managed to jump to her feet quickly but he charged at her, knocking her back down and with one last swing he brought his sword down to her chest – not hitting her but resting the blade on her chestplate. 

“Yield?” he asked.

She considered her options. She considered rolling but the blade would cut her and her stamina was low. She clashed her dagger against his sword, trying to push it far enough away to roll free but he pushed back, and she felt the pressure of the tip of the blade at harder in her breasts and she struggled to take a breath.

“I yield Inquisitor,” she said with a regret.

He smiled and dropped the sword, offering her hand up. She accepted and he pulled her up to her feet with ease. The small crowd applauding. 

“A good match my lady,” he said with a small bow, not letting go of her hand. 

“Are you better acquainted with my skills now?” she asked, pulling her hand away. 

He chuckled, feeling the scratch on his cheek. 

“I believe so,” he told her, picking up the practice sword once more. “Much more confident in your ability to defend yourself.”

“Thank you,” she said. 

He nodded.

“I never doubt your ability though Josie,” he said quietly so only she could hear, “I just needed to see what you could do before we could fight together.”

“I understand Inquisitor,” she said, a hand on his arm. “Truly.”

“Good. Will you join me for dinner in hall later?” he asked. 

“Perhaps,” she said.

He sighed, then covered it with a noise, and she regretted not agreeing immediately but as he walked away she realised it was a bit late. Maybe she could apologise some how later, she had a lot of paperwork to do anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's coming along. I have it plotted out. Let me know if you're enjoying it.


	6. Greetings From The House Of Repose

“You asked me once, why I had changed,” Josephine said.

They were in her office, drinking tea on her sofa. He'd managed to convince her to take a short break despite the pile of letters on her desk she needed to attend to. It was easy for him to convince her though; she was tired from her duties as Inquisitor now so much had changed since they'd come to Skyhold. There was so much more for them to do now, so many more people to work with, placate and facilitate. Josephine felt like she was being spread a little thin.

So a cup of tea with Maxwell was no hardship, even as he sat too close and smelled so good in his casual outfit.

Wait, where did that come from, she thought.

“Yes, but it's okay if you don't want to talk about it Josie. We're both different people now.”

“I can't be that carefree young woman forever, could never be. The..I must explain something about the Montilyets fortune.”

“It's-”

“No, let me explain. Please Inquisitor.”

“Max.”

“Maxwell.” She smiled, wondering how often they were going to be correcting each other. “The Montilyets made their fortune as traders until a scandal exiled us from Orlais an age ago,” she looked away from him, unsure how he would receive this, what he would think of her. “It devastated our finances. We have in fact been in debt for over one hundred years.”

“You seem to be managing,” he said.

“It's not enough!” she cried. “One disaster could wipe us out.” He was watching her carefully, listening and she continued. “For years we've done everything we could to keep creditors at bay. Sold our lands to stave off interest.” She paused. “It's just infuriating to see my family still reduced to this.”

She sighed, and leaned back against the sofa. He put an arm around her and pulled her close and even though she tensed up she allowed it. 

“As the eldest sibling I am to become the head of my household. If I sell any more land my family will become destitute and that cannot be my legacy to them. That's why I've changed,” she said, leaning forward to take a sip of her tea. “I cannot be that girl anymore, not when I have so much responsibility now.”

“I understand,” he said, “Thank you for telling me Josephine. For trusting me.”

She nodded, settling back into his casual embrace, trying not to relax too much should she fall asleep on him, or he take it the wrong way. It was just nice to have a friend. A moment.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked, a tension in his arm as he went to pull her closer to him.

“I thought I had almost solved our problems. For a while.”

“What happened?”

“I negotiated a chance to reinstate the Montilyets as landed traders in Orlais. It is a chance to rebuild. But when I dispatched papers...the carriers were murdered, the documents restoring my family's status destroyed, two innocent people killed and I do not know why...”

“Why would anyone do that? I can't believe you have any enemies Josie.” 

“As far as I know I have none. I had Leliana look into it. There is a nobleman in Val Royeaux, Comte Boisvert, he has some information about who killed the carriers.”

“When do I leave?”

“There is no need for you to accompany me, I am sure the Comte will be willing to meet me.”

“I don't care,” he said, pulling his arm away and turning in his seat to face her. “Someone wants to stop the Montilyets from gaining trading status enough to kill to do so. You could be in danger. I'll go and meet him on your behalf.”

“I must insist on going. This is my family, my problem.”

“As you friend, I must insist on helping.”

Maxwell was smiling at her, and she groaned. He wasn't going to relent on this, and she nodded. 

“Very well Inquisitor,” she said. “We will leave tomorrow unless there is more urgent business for you to attend to.”

“There won't be Josie, trust me.”

x

Val Royeaux as hot but glorious and as they crossed the market place together she realised how much she missed it.

Or perhaps she missed the weather.

Skyhold was always cold, even as the summer months warmed Ferelden and the more Southern parts of Thedas the mountains remained covered in snow.

In his armour Maxwell looked a little overheated as if he'd forgotten this fact.

“I miss the mountains,” he muttered to her, aware of people watching them as they headed through the city.

“I do not,” she said with a chuckle.

He grumbled and she smiled at him, heading through the large noble estates to that belonging to Comte Boisvert – the man with the information she needed. The journey to Val Royeaux had been a pleasant one, despite the reasons behind it. Maxwell had insisted on travelling with her instead of just meeting her there when he was able – she always had business in the city – both personal and Inquisition related. They had always gotten on well, that wasn't the problem with travelling with him and only him for a few days.

The problems was how she felt about him.

He flirted on and off the entire time and it always seemed so sincere. Especially as it had changed from trying to get her into bed to little compliments here and there. Compliments about how she looked, the sound of her voice, her skills in her office and on the training grounds (she had began to train with him on occasion). Compliments about how funny she was, how interesting, how cute.

Cute?

And she felt the same about him and no longer found herself adverse to that idea. Or to the idea of taking him to bed once more and showing him exactly everything she'd learnt in the past decade. 

Except she didn't think she could now. She'd been denying him for so long and they were just friends. Right.

Regardless, she had other things to worry about, which was always the case.

She sighed and stepped up her pace to the Comte's estate.

One problem at a time.

x

Josephine knew this man was not the Comte from the moment they sat down. The way he held himself gave him away immediately and she let him play the game, listening to him speak without giving him away at first. It wouldn't get them anywhere and she almost laughed at the look on Maxwell's face when she revealed the fact. He hadn't guessed at all – not surprisingly – and he quickly checked to see if there had ever even been a Comte Boisvert but she knew the answer to that too. Leliana would never have let her go if she had thought for a second that an assassin would be greeting her. 

When the man rose to leave Maxwell jumped out of his chair and stood in his way, great sword drawn and ready.

“I did not come to shed blood today, Inquisitor – only to speak. Might I pass?” he asked.

Maxwell didn't answer right away and Josephine stood, placing one hand on his shoulder – squeezing gently – and the other hand on the blade of his sword. 

“Max,” she said softly and he glanced away from the assassin to look at her. “Let him go.”

“They're threatening your life Josephine,” he said, and her heart lurched a little at the panicked look on his face. 

“Killing him doesn't make the problem go away,” she said, pushing his blade down.

“She's right Inquisitor. I am simply a messenger.”

Maxwell looked to her and she nodded, smiling gently. He stepped aside to let the assassin pass.

“Good day Inquisitor. Lady Montilyet.”

The assassin nodded to them both, leaving them at the table on the Comte's balcony. 

“I don't understand, what just happened Josie,” he said. “Why did he tell us all that?”

“It's only decent. He has a contract with extraordinary circumstances, the guild's reputation would suffer if they ignored the contract.”

“Why are you so calm about this?” he asked, taking her hand from his shoulder and holding it tightly.

“Because I can fix this Inquisitor,” she said, squeezing his hand. “All will be well I promise.”

“If you insist,” he said.

There was a moment then, when she thought he might kiss her. Or she might kiss him but then he let go of her hand and sheathed his sword. 

“We should go,” she said. “I will tell you more of my plan on the way home.”

He nodded, not speaking for a moment taking a couple of steps away from her.

“First we should free the real Comte,” he said with a smile. She chuckled and went out to find one of the man's servants.

She didn't see Maxwell for a few days after they returned from the city.

They had travelled back to Skyhold after a quick scout around the market for supplies, Josephine explaining her plan to him on the way. Her plan to reinstate the Du Paraquettes to nobility and have them cancel the contract. As soon as she had returned to her office she had written to the remaining members of the family and they had been more than willing to assist. 

Except she needed Maxwell's help as the Inquisitor. He would be able to get the noble to sponsor them, a judge to provide documents and a minister to ratify them, In the time he was away in the Emerald Graves she had found a possible sponsor, judge and minister, people who would be willing if the Inquisitor was involved or performed a favour of some sort and she was keen to get the whole process started.

There was plenty of work to do other wise though and she could wait. She had plenty of other things to worry about.

Most of which had nothing to do with Maxwell Trevelyan.

She really didn't need to be developing more complex feelings for him than she already had. She enjoyed being his friend, supporting him and having his support, enjoyed his company. She didn't need any more. Not with her father looking for a husband for her in both Antiva and Orlais, and her position as Ambassador of the Inquisition and head of her household. There was just far too much to do for a brief affair with the man who was effectively her boss.

Or to fall in love with him.

Where had that come from?

She grumbled to herself and started on a new report, detailing her latest negotiations with Nevarra for the Inquisitor. Everything she wrote was for him. Everything she did. It was hard to not to think about Maxwell when she was working for him.

There was a sound at the door and she glanced up to a servant she didn't recognise walk in with a tray of tea. She smiled at him, and looked back at her paper work.

“Anywhere is fine,” she said as he approached. 

Josephine caught the glint of metal move away from the tray in the corner of her eye and looked up in time to see a dagger flying at her face. She dove to the side, hitting the floor, the blade hitting the stone behind her. She yanked open the draw of her desk, reaching inside to pulled out her own dagger, as she got back to her feet still crouching behind the large wooden desk. The assassin came around and she jumped out at him as he attacked once more, slashing at him several times. Their weapons clashed and she pushed back at him, putting in all her strength and managing to unbalance him slightly. She spun around, tripping him, and when he hit the floor she pressed the tip of her dagger to the assassin's throat.

“Did the House of Repose send you?” she demanded.

He didn't answer and she considered pressing the dagger in harder, even as the tip pierced his skin, a drop of red trailing down his neck. He didn't react and Josephine held back a gasp, trying to stop herself from pulling back. 

He rolled to the side, the blade cutting through the first few layers of his neck, ignoring it as he jumped back to his feet and Josephine fell back onto the floor. She managed a shout as he descended on her and heard the door of her office swing open and heavy footsteps. There was a moment when she thought it would be too late, as the assassin ripped the golden sash at her waist, but then she saw a sword swinging behind the man, and there was a sickening thud as it connecting with the assassin and he went down in front of her. 

A hand helped her to her feet and she smiled at the guard who had saved her life.

“Are you injured Ambassador?” she asked.

“No, no,” she said, staring at the body of the assassin. “How did you know?” 

“Sister Nightingale assigned me to shadow you Lady Ambassador,” she said. “I've been outside.”

“Thank you Ser,” she said. 

“My pleasure.”

“What in the Void happened here?” 

Both Josephine and the guard whirled around to see Maxwell standing in her office, wearing his armour and staring at the dead man on the floor.

“Inquisitor!” she said. “You're back?”

“Josie what happened?”

“The House of Repose paid a visit I'm afraid,” she said. “I managed to hold him off before Ser Cauthrien saved me.”

“We owe you a debt Ser,” Maxwell said shaking the woman's hand. The guard nodded. 

“Just doing my duty your worship,” she said with a bow. “I'll have someone come clean up the mess.”

“Thank you,” Josephine said.

Ser Cauthrien bowed to her and left the room. Maxwell walked over to the body of the assassin and gave him a quick kick to make sure the man was dead. 

“I'm sorry I wasn't here Josie,” he said.

“I can look after myself Inquisitor,” she said, hands on her hips and pulling at the ripped sash. “I should've known the House of Repose would infiltrate the servants. But I can deal with this.”

“No, we need to end this now.”

“Well, I've already found a sponsor for the Du Paraquettes,” she said, moving back to her desk, pulling the sash from her her waist. “And a judge and minister. A few favours and a little influence from you Inquisitor...” She smiled at him but he was still frowning, still angry.

“And how long will that take Josie,” he snapped. “Weeks, months? And what happens when Cauthrien isn't here? Or you're in Val Royeaux in the open?” 

“So I should lock myself away and do nothing,” she said.

“No, I will deal with this,” he said, “now.”

He started to storm off, heading out of her office and she chased after him grabbing his arm to stop him.

“Inquisitor,” she said. “Wait.”

He managed a weak smile, and pulled her hand from her arm. “I'll send Ser Cauthrien back in, have someone stay with you full time.”

“It's not necessary Max,” she said.

“I can't lose you Josephine,” he said softly this time. “I'll be back.”

She let him go, sensing further arguments wouldn't work.

“Be careful,” she told him before the door closed behind him. “I can't lose you either,” she added when he was gone.

x

“Are you completely devoid of your sanity!” Josephine cried, when she saw him walk through the man gate of the keep. She had been waiting for him since she'd heard he was almost home. Bull and Dorian started to slink away quickly before turning back and grabbing Sera to take her with her, Bull lifting her and carrying her under his arm. Josephine would've laughed if she wasn't so furious with Maxwell.

He stopped at the gates and looked around at the small group of people that were always grouped around the gate and Ser Cauthrien who was standing a few paces behind Josephine.

“Can we do this somewhere else?” he asked, having the decency to look a little sheepish at least.

“Fine.”

She stormed off, and he followed, his long legs meaning he kept up her pace easily despite her speed. It all just made her angrier. Foolish, foolish man.

In her office Josephine smiled at Ser Cauthrien, asking her to remain outside before she closed and locked the door behind them with a little more force than necessary. Though not as much as she would've liked – the solid wood a little heavier than she expected – and strode past him and over to her desk, grabbing the report from her desk. 

“Josie,” Maxwell started.

“Josephine!” she snapped, waving the papers at him. “You strode into The House Of Repose, alone, killed a dozen assassins and broke into their vault. You found the contract on my house and destroyed it before walking back out again.”

“I wasn't alone,” he said, “I had Bull, Dorian and Sera with me.”

“Who you left outside while you stormed in. Alone!” 

She couldn't even figure out how angry she was, but she knew why, it was obvious. One man with a great-sword against a few dozen assassins. He shouldn't have even gotten to the vault, let along walk out again. He could've been killed, she could've lost him. 

She loved him.

She pushed that thought back down and glared at him, happy as he took a step away from her. 

“I had to. I couldn't risk the others for this. It was too personal.”

“Personal?” she cried. “It's my contract, my family.”

“Yes but you are my friend. I couldn't risk losing you Josie.”

“Josephine,” she corrected again. 

He ignored the correction and moved towards her, crowding her back against her desk. 

“Josephine, you are too important to me,” he said, softer this time, taking a deep breath. “After that assassin nearly killed you I couldn't just sit back and do nothing.”

“I had a plan.”

“That would've taken too much time. I couldn't risk another attempt. Not again.”

“That wasn't up to you Inquisitor.”

“Max,” he said. “And whatever you may think, I did this for you as much as for me.”

“For me.”

“For us,” he added in a smaller voice

“For us?” she asked, and he bent down to kiss her gently on the lips. 

“So there can be an us,” he said and she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around him as best she could with his armour on and great-sword still strapped to his back. He managed to run his hands up her cheeks ever so gently before running them through her hand and loosening the ties and pins that held it in place.

“Max,” she moaned and then she realised what she was doing. “Stop,” she gasped, pushing him back. He almost tripped over himself and she moved away from her desk and him. 

“Josephine.”

“I can't do this, we can't do this.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“I can't afford to have a random dalliance with the Inquisitor.”

“This isn't a...a random dalliance...I care about you Josie,” he said, moving towards her and she doesn't think she'd ever seen look so sad. “I lo-”

“Don't!” she cried. “Don't say anymore.”

“I thought we were getting closer. You kissed me back.”

“My father, my father is searching for a husband for me as we speak Maxwell,” she said. “He could've already found one and arranged an engagement. This would all be for nothing.”

“Engagements can be broken,” he said, moving towards her again.

“Not without significant problems and I haven't even dealt with my family's trading status.”

“Which you can do now easily and tell your father you don't need a husband just yet.”

“No. I cannot,” she said. “It's not so simple. You are a noble, I doubt things are so different in Ostwick.”

He didn't answer and he looked like he might kiss her again, Josephine hoped he might kiss her again because she couldn't bring herself to kiss him no matter how much she wanted to. But he didn't, he looked her over and sighed, rubbing a dirty hand over his face.

“Josie, I love you,” he said, flatly. “I want you to at least have heard me say it. Mean it.”

“I do not doubt that you mean it.”

“I won't ask for the same declaration, I just hope we can be friends,” he said, not looking at her now even as she tried to make eye contact. 

“I would like that,” she said, trying to smile but not quite managing it. He still didn't meet her eyes and with a nod turned away. “Maxwell,” she called out before he left. “Thank you. For what you did for me.”

“You're welcome,” he said. “I'll see you later.”

He left the office, letting Ser Cauthrien back in and Josephine had a horrible feeling she wouldn't be seeing much of Maxwell outside of the War Room from now on.


	7. Match Point

Her father had found a match for her.

Josephine knew it was coming of course, in fact, she was surprised he had taken so long given that he had been looking for a suitable match for the most of the year now. She had helped vet a couple of the better matches and had expected her father to choose from one of those some time ago but the letter never came.

Now, however, it seemed he had chosen someone completely different but he didn't mention the man's name in the letter. Just that he had made a decision.

She supposed it was better to have a decision made than to continue waiting and she didn't mind so much, so she tried to tell herself. Her parents marriage had been arranged the same way and they were very happy. She had been expecting this for a long time.

She hadn't been expecting Maxwell.

That was the problem with all this.

She should've told him sooner. About the possible engagement or about how she felt. 

Too late now.

She'd broken his heart, ruined their friendship, was hurting herself. She had enough to deal with sorting out her family's affairs and helping save the world as the Ambassador of the Inquisition. She was without his support too. She still had Leliana and Cassandra as her friends but she really missed him. It seemed they couldn't be friends any more and that's what upset her the most she thought.

Maybe.

She also spent a lot of time thinking about kissing him. It had been a lot different to kissing the young man at the Summer Ball over a decade again. This older Maxwell had been gentler, more confident, and Maker his lips. The memory shook through her as she sat at her desk and she tried to ignore the pleasant buzz as she read over her father's letter once again.

“Oh Josie, whatever is wrong?” Leliana said, coming to sit on her sofa, patting the space beside her. She stood up, bringing the letter and her tea, walking over to her. She dropped down next to her friend and let the woman pull her in for a hug. “Have you spoken to the Inquisitor yet?”

“No, it's, it won't help.”

She sighed sitting back against the sofa, one of Leliana's arm still around her and she rested her head against her shoulder. 

“He is miserable,” Leliana said.

“I know.” 

“So are you.”

“I know.”

She handed Leliana the letter from her father and waited as the Spymaster read it over. They were silent as she did so, and Josephine took a breath. She had read it over and over, knew every word.

“Lord Montilyet does not mention the suitor's name.”

“No,” she said. “He probably forgot he hadn't told me before, or not noticed he'd omitted it from the letter. You know how he is.”

“I do,” Leliana said with a chuckle. “Has he mentioned him before? This minor noble?”

“No, he's never been a candidate before.” She sighed. “I suppose I will find out soon. He will bring him here for us to meet soon.”

“He does say he'll be here soon.”

“With my mother no less.”

“I look forward to seeing your mother. I do miss her so,” Leliana said with a smile. “As do you no doubt.”

“I do terribly,” she said with a smile of her. “And I know my mother would never let my father choose badly for me.” 

“I will try and find out more about him for you.”

“A name would be a find start Leli.”

“I'll do what I can Josephine,” she said. “Will you consider talking to the Inquisitor? You really should tell him about this before your parents arrive with your fiancé.”

“You are probably right.”

“I am right.” She kissed her on the cheek and stood. “If I discover anything I will let you know.”

“Thank you.”

Leliana slipped away as quietly as she had approached and Josephine remained on the sofa a little longer, thinking about what she would say to Maxwell before going back to work. 

x

Josephine found the Inquisitor in her office when she arrived to start her morning duties the very next day. He was leaning against her desk as if nothing had changed between them a few weeks ago, spinning his great-sword around, digging into the stone with the tip. When she came in he looked up at her but he didn't smile. He nodded and stood, as if standing to attention and she wanted to cry.

“Inquisitor,” she said. “Good morning.” 

“Leliana mentioned you had something to tell me.”

Clever, Josephine thought, just like her to force her into telling Maxwell. She could lie of course, give him some insignificant Inquisition information but she couldn't avoid this forever. Couldn't avoid him forever.

“We – I – thought you should know that, ah, my -” she hesitated, struggling with the words for the first time in her life. It was the way he looked at her, so cold and distant now, like a rainstorm rolling in. 

“Just spit it out Ambassador.”

She was tempted to correct him, to try and regain some of their former friendship but he didn't look like he was in the mood for anything other than business this morning. 

“My father has found me a suitor. A nobleman he has been communicating with.” 

Maxwell didn't speak at first, his eyes dropping from her face to the floor for a moment and she carried on talking.

“I don't know much about him, father isn't known for his letter writing after all.”

“When? Ah, when did you find out?” he asked, looking back at her. There was a flicker of something on his face and she frowned, unsure of what it was. She had expected him to be sad, or perhaps angry, but so far he hadn't reacted. 

That was worse. Was he over her already?

“Yesterday,” she said, 

He nodded, mulling it over and she wondered if she should let him read the letter, wondered if it would help. 

“Thank you for telling me,” he said, sheathing his sword on his back.

“For what it's worth I'm very sorry Maxwell.” 

She never meant for it to get this far. Never meant for them to fall in love.

He shook his head, smiling slightly.

“I'll always love you Josie,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it lightly. 

She gasped, on the edge of tears so quickly it shocked her. He let go and took a few steps away, looking back at the small groove his sword had made in her stone floor.

“I'm heading out to Sahrnia for a few days, perhaps a week, with Bull and Dorian, might take Varric with me too,” he said, “make sure the boats these Orlesians lent us actually arrive so we can get the goods up the river.”

“Good, I do not doubt they will come through on their promise, but it is always good for the guilds to have a little reminder of their obligations,” she managed to get out.

“Exactly,” he said, and she thought he might smile again but when he looked up at her his face was neutral once more. “I will see you in a week.”

“Very well,” she said, “be careful.”

He nodded, that flicker on his face again before he left her office and she sank back into her desk chair and allowed herself a few tears.

x

Her father arrived much sooner than she expected, only a few days after she had received the letter and strangely without her new fiancé or her mother. She greeted him at the gate of the keep, hugging him tightly. 

“Father,” she cried, and the small Antivan man hugged her back, kissing her on both cheeks before he let her go.

“Josephine,” he said, “it is so good to see you daughter.”

“I did not think you would arrive so soon,” she said. “I had only just received your letter last week.”

“I sent it after I left, I had completely forgotten and found it one night in my pocket. Curious obviously travel quicker than one old man and his entourage.”

She smiled and started to lead him through keep.

“Where is mother?” she said, sadly. “I was hoping to see you both.”

“Your mother came down with the Orlisian flu a couple of days before I was due to leave. I didn't think she should travel all the way here through these cold mountains.”

“Yes, it's for the best,” she said, “I will send her my regards. Perhaps some flowers.”

“She would like that very much my dear.” 

As they ascended the stairs to the main hall, she linked arms with him.

“I had assumed you would be bringing the man you had chosen as my husband also,” she said with a small smile.

“He will be here soon, I promise,” he said with his own smile, his glasses falling down his nose a little. He was no taller than herself, with glasses and wavy dark hair she had inherited. His skin was a little lighter though, from his Orlisian heritage, and he was small and spindly – her mother's description – a woman with dark skin and a fuller figure similar to her own. 

“Are you going to tell me more about him?” she asked, as they headed into the main hall. 

“Soon, I promise,” he said, “first, let me rest, then I want to meet all of your friends. I hear Sister Leliana is one of the Inquisition's advisers,” he said, looking around the large room. “It will be nice to see her again. It's been many years.”

“We will have dinner together. Do you think mother will be well enough to join you at any point?” she asked, urging him through a door.

“I know you miss her my dear,” he said, linking their arms once more. “And your mother misses you terribly but I doubt it very much my dear.” 

Josephine sighed. She had hoped her mother would come and console her. She loved her father but it was mother's advice and care that set her straight time and time again. Sofia Montilyet had a sensible pragmatic approach to life that Josephine shared and she would love some of that guidance right now.

She would have to write to her and explain.

“This is your room father,” she said, opening a door, “I hope is it acceptable.” 

She had managed to put together a nice room for him in the time it had taken his entourage to make it from the base camp to the Keep, running around in a rush the moment one of Leliana's scouts had given her the news of his arrival. She worried it wasn't good enough though. 

“It is perfect my dear,” he said. “Please, don't worry so much.”

She smiled and hugged him once more. 

“I'll let you rest a little, then come and fetch you for dinner.”

“Very good.” 

He kissed her on the cheek.

“You will be happy with my choice Josephine,” he said, “I promise.”

She smiled, hoping it looked convincing enough and she left her father to rest after his long journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stick with it kids!


	8. Giddy

Her father was giddy.

Josephine had seen him like this twice before; on her younger brother's wedding day and when she had introduced him to Empress Celene. Her mother said he was giddy when she and her siblings were born too but she doesn't quite remember it.

She assumed it was either because her fiancé was on his way or because he was about to meet the Inquisitor; who had arrived back in Skyhold that morning. They were due to have dinner together, with some of his companions and while her father was looking forward to the affair, Josephine was dreading it.

It would be the first time they would spend any time together outside of the War Room and the one short talk they'd had just before he'd left for Sahrnia. She wasn't looking forward to it and hoped he and her father had a lot to talk about because she wasn't sure Maxwell would have anything to say to her at all. 

Which broke her heart a little because they used to talk about everything.

She missed him.

Josephine shook the thought away and looked over her wardrobe. She didn't quite have the wardrobe she'd had in Orlais, or even at home, but she'd had a few dresses tailored for more formal functions the Inquisition put together for supporting nobles on occasion. She chose something in purple, a comforting colour and not too daring for dinner with her friends and father. She twisted her hair into her usual style, added a little kohl to her eyes, a little blush to her cheeks to hide the sickly colour of her usually bronzed cheeks. Anxiety was not becoming.

There was a knock on the door and she turned away from the mirror and opened it.

“Father,” she said, with a smile. He looked exceptional in his formal tunic waistcoat.

“Are you ready?” 

“Yes, yes.”

“It will be fun Josephine,” he told her, linking their arms together as she left her room. “You worry too much.”

She hoped he was right as they head down to main hall for dinner.

x

Dinner wasn't as awful as Josephine had expected.

Despite convention dictating otherwise, Maxwell insisted that her father sit at the head of the dinner table, she and the Inquisitor sitting either side of him, opposite each other. He looked well after his trip to Sahrnia, and even smiled at her occasionally as her father kept him deep in conversation about...everything. Despite having Leliana to her right, she took her time to sit and look at him, feeling like it was the first time she was able to do so without any tension between them for weeks now.

That is was possibly the last time as well did not escape her attentions and even as she enjoyed the meal and his brief smiles in her direction she still felt sad.

When her father stood up with his wine in one hand, wobbling on his feet a little, she realised he was going to say something. She was tempted to stand and convince him to sit back down, if only because he was already a little unsteady on his feet from the wine he'd consumed with dinner but he looked so happy.

Giddy.

“I have an announcement to make,” he said, words clear despite his inebriation. He looked down at her and smiled warmly and reached out to take her hand. She clasped it and let him pull her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her and holding her close. She blushed bright red as all her friends looked at her. As Maxwell looked at her.

“As you know, I have been searching for a husband for my eldest daughter Josephine,” he said, and she felt her cheeks blaze hotter and she stared down at the table, not daring a glance at Maxwell. “Recently I found the perfect suitor for her, and it is my honour to welcome the Inquisitor into my family as my daughter's husband.”

“What?!” Her head snapped up and Maxwell got out of his chair at her father's urging, looking somewhat sheepish again but happy. “Maxwell?”

“Congratulations!” Leliana said, grinning at her friend.

“Let us toast this union!” her father said giddy still, and he drained his glass without saying another word, the rest of the group toasting to their health even as Josephine stood there staring at Maxwell in shock and he smiled back at her.

Her father fell into his seat suddenly, almost pulling Josephine down with him and Maxwell came around the table quickly to catch her, wrapping an arm around her waist. 

“I promise I'll explain,” he said quietly, both of them aware of their friends staring at them.

“Do you truly mean to marry me?” she asked, trying not to look away from his dark eyes and his smile. 

“Yes.”

“Then that will do for now,” she said, pulling away from him, not quite managing to hide her own smile. “Let us finish dinner, then we'll talk.”

He nodded and went to kiss her but she ducked away to the amusement of their friends, Bull and Varric laughing out loud, Leliana and Cassandra's chuckles distinctive through it all. She blushed red again. 

“Not yet Inquisitor,” she told him quietly. “Not in front of my father.”

He grinned at her, that cocky grin of the kid she had first met and she smiled back.

x

By time dinner was over and they got a chance to talk Josephine was both overjoyed and angry. She escorted her father back to his room. Well, she escorted Bull who was carrying her father back to his room the Qunari muttering about how artists couldn't hold their drink the entire time. When she was satisfied he was settled in his bed she went looking for Maxwell.

He was in her office waiting for her, leaning against her desk in his formal clothes, looking stupidly handsome and damn pleased with himself and he smiled at her as she walked in.

“Your father okay?” he asked.

“He'll be sore in the morning, but he will be fine. He gets...giddy sometimes.”

“Giddy?”

She nodded but didn't elaborate. She wasn't sure she could.

“How long have you known?” she asked.

“I didn't know for sure until this morning.”

“This morning?” 

Maxwell moved towards her, urging her to sit on the sofa with him and she did so but kept her distance. He frowned but didn't push. 

“Your father said he sent a letter accepting my proposal but I never received anything.”

“He probably never sent it,” she said with a laugh and he smiled. “When you left for Sahrnia?”

“I had asked, written to him a couple of times and gotten a couple of promising replies back but no confirmation until I met him this morning.”

“This morning,” she repeated. “Why? Why did you do this?”

He laughed then, reaching out to touch the leather cord holding the amulet around her neck, tracing it down to the amulet between her breasts. 

“Oh Josie,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek. “Because I love you.” 

She didn't answer, couldn't answer for a moment. 

“I love you too Maxwell, I can't believe you did this.”

“I was reliably informed I had a good chance. I am a noble, I own land, I'm the figure head of a major religious movement and trying to save the world.”

“Reliably informed by who?” Josephine asked, raising an eyebrow. “As if I can't guess.”

“Leliana,” he said, that sheepish look on his face once more and she chuckled.

“That explains some things.”

“I'm sorry if I have deceived you Josie.”

“Josephine,” she said.

“Really?” he said. “You're going to corrected me even though we're engaged.”

“Absolutely Maxwell.”

He laughed pulling her closer to him on the sofa so he could kiss her on the lips this time, soft and chaste.

“Is this okay?” he whispered.

“The kiss?”

“No, well, yes, but the engagement, your father choosing me, the whole arrangement.”

He was worried, she realised, that he'd done the wrong thing even though they loved each other and she smiled and kissed him, deeper this time until she couldn't breathe. 

“It's fine,” she said, gasping slightly when she pulled away. “I don't know what I would've done, having to marry another man and watch you find another person to love.”

He shook his head, cupping her cheek.

“No, I would never choose to marry anyone else,” he said, “I would've found a way, or Leliana would've found a way. I would fight any man for you.”

“You're a fool,” she said, feeling the smile on her face widen anyway. “And Antivan's duel. We do not fight.” 

“I'm sorry my lady,” he said. “I would duel for you. Die for you.”

“No, no dying for me Maxwell. Promise.”

He hesitated and her heart dropped to her stomach.

“I'm not sure I can Josie,” he said, “I don't know what's going to happen or how to defeat Corypheus.”

“Max...”

“But I will do everything in my power to make it back to you. That I can promise.”

Blinking back the tears in her eyes she nodded and he kissed her, pulling her into his lap so he could wrap his arms around her. She shifted so that she was straddling him, kissing back fiercely and running her hands up into his dark hair. 

“You are everything to me Josephine Montilyet,” he muttered between kisses. 

“I missed you,” she said, “these last few weeks.”

“I missed you too.”

She smiled at that, and then moaned when he started to kiss over her jaw and down her neck.

“What are you doing?” she asked, feeling his hands – rougher after a decade of working with a great-sword – on her thighs pushing the material of her dress up slowly.

“Trying to get into your smalls?” he said, and she wiped the cocky grin off his face with another kiss.

“Not here,” she said. “Not yet.”

“My quarters?” he asked. “Or is this a wait until we're married thing? Because I would.”

“No, but I would rather not make love to you for the first time in ten years in my office or with my father in earshot.”

He laughed then.

“You think I'll manage to make you scream loud enough that he'll hear you from my quarters?” he asked, with a wink.

“No, I think I'll manage to make you scream loud enough that he'll hear you from your quarters,” she said and he groaned.

“You are an evil, evil woman.”

She smiled at him, lifting herself up and off his lap, brushing the skirts of her dress down as she stood. 

“Escort me to my quarters my lord?” she asked, holding out a hand to him. He took it and stood with a grace usually hidden beneath his armour.

“My pleasure _my_ lady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so a few of you (all of you) figured out what I was going to do but I hope you're not disappointed.


	9. Even Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut.

Her father left the next day, promising to return and with her mother this time.

She spent the day working.

Trying to work at least.

It was hard not to think about how her life had both dramatically changed and remained the same in the last day. The world was still under the threat of Corypheus, she was still the Ambassador, she still missed her mother. But now she was engaged to be married, to a man she loved, and had a lot to look forward to.

Assuming they saved the world.

Instead of working she was thinking about all of that. Thinking about her father's long trip back to Antiva, her mother waiting for him. She was thinking about her engagement to Maxwell, thinking about how Leliana had helped him, given him the idea. She was thinking about the man himself, probably training somewhere or in the tavern with Bull and Krem, or even working on his own paperwork.

Thinking about going to see him and talking to him.

Kissing him.

She wasn't getting anything done.

She persevered though, at least until Leliana came to find her.

“Josie? Why are you here?” she asked, walking into the room and letting her hood drop. She settled on the edge of the desk – Maxwell's usual seat – and smiled. 

“I'm working.”

“The Inquisitor is waiting for you,” she said, “I can hear him pacing his chambers from here.”

“You cannot,” Josephine scoffed and Leliana laughed. 

“Perhaps not, but why are you down here and not up there with him making more interesting noises?”

“Leliana!”

“Josie, why are you avoiding him? You should've gone with him the moment your father left,” she said. “Are you worried now Lord Montilyet is gone he will change his mind?”

“A little,” she admitted, “but I'm more afraid that I will change my mind.” Leliana laughed, light and merry, and Josephine smiled. “Is that so foolish?” she asked.

“No,” Leliana said, moving around the desk to pull Josephine to her feet. “But you know your heart Josie, and you know his.”

Josephine smiled and let Leliana take the quill she was holding, dropping it onto her desk.

“Go and talk to him dear friend,” she said. “He's waited long enough.”

“Thank you,” she said. 

Leliana kissed her on the cheek before she left the office, leaving Josephine standing in her office. She gave herself a moment to breathe before she left herself, only just managing not to run all the way to his room. 

He was sitting at his desk staring at the wall, a quill forgotten and dropped to the floor. 

“Maxwell?” she said softly.

He jumps at her voice, turning round and smiling at her, almost leaping out of his chair and rushing over to her. He kissed her on the lips and she felt her fears melt away as he wrapped her arms around her.

“I didn't hear you come in,” he said, pulling back a step but keeping her in his embrace. “I thought perhaps you had changed your mind.”

“I thought perhaps I had also,” she admitted. “I was just nervous. Am still a little.” 

“You don't need to be nervous Josie,” he said, pulling her close again, “we don't have to do anything, I just want to be with you.”

“No I'm not nervous about that -”

“You're not?” he said, “I am!”

“You are?”

“I've been trying to get into your smalls and prove I've learnt more for the past eight months!” he said. “I'm terrified I'll be a let down.”

“Do you love me Maxwell?” she asked. 

“Of course, more than the world my dear.”

She blushed a little at the endearment, kissing him chastely. 

“Then you could never let me down,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him over to the bed. She sat him down, and moved to sit next to him, a hand on his leg.

“Why are you nervous my love?” he asked.

“There is so much to think about, to talk about. What if we disagree?” she said. “If we had only just met, then it wouldn't matter but I love you so much that -”

He laughed.

“My love we are going to disagree.”

“I mean about serious things. Like where we will live. Or if we will have children.”

“I don't care as long as you are happy Josie,” he said. “I want children, as many as you can bear and I will live here in Skyhold, or in Antiva, or Ostwick – wherever you like my love.”

She smiled.

“As many children as I can bear?” she asked, with a wicked grin.

“Absolutely, we may need to get started now,” he said, pulling her into his lap. She chuckled, shifting so that she was straddling him. 

“No, no children before we are married. My parents would never forgive you.”

“Me? What about you?”

“They love me. I am their eldest. The most successful. They will blame you and you will never hear the end of it I can promise you this.”

“Then no children before we are wed. Let's go get married.”

She kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I am taking herbs, and will continue until we are married, properly, in Skyhold.”

“Here?” he asked, kissing down to her neck, nipping at the soft skin there. She groaned, tipping her head to the side. 

“Less arguments if it is somewhere neutral,” she murmured.

“Good idea,” he said, against her skin. “Let's talk more about it later.”

“If you insist my lord.”

“I do my lady.”

He chuckled and she started to undo the buttons on his beige shirt, pulling it open so she could run her hands up and under the thin tunic he wore beneath it. He was much harder than she remembered, skin taut over large muscles, scars dotted here and there that were rough beneath her fingers. He let her pull the tunic over his head and throw it aside, and she took a proper look at him. His skin was a little darker than she remembered, he was broader and when she looked up his face he was smirking.

“Like what you see?” he said and she blushed. 

“You are beautiful,” she said. “I...am not so much.”

He scoffed then, moved his hands to her waist to fiddle with the sash there and she wondered how often he had been trying to figure out how to remove her clothing because he was very good at it. He pulled the sash away and started at her buttons.

“I must disagree my lady,” he said.

“I am no longer 19.”

“I would not want you to be,” he said, reaching the last button. “You don't see it do you? The way some of people here look at you. Bull and Maryden. Or Cullen?”

“Cullen?” she squeaked, surprised the Commander looked at her in any way other than a colleague and friend.

“They want you Josie,” he mumbled into the exposed skin of her upper chest and she shivered. “Almost as much as I do.”

She gasped and let him pull open her blouse, revealing her upper body and breast band to his eyes. She want to cover up suddenly, her body tensing slightly. She was nervous of this she realised, a little at least. Without a word he pulled her blouse closed, smiling softly.

“I want you to be comfortable.”

“I am not some blushing virgin for makers sake,” she said, opening it again and shaking it off. 

“This was apparent when we first met, my love,” he said, with that cocky grin.

She rolled her eyes and started to unwind her breast-band. She dropped it on the floor and looked back at his face. Gone was the confident and cocky man, replaced by the man who loved her.

Revered her.

“Maxwell,” she moaned softly. “Touch me.”

He smiled, placing his hands on her waist, thumbs stroking the skin there as he leaned forward to kiss her again. She sighed as a hand smoothed up her body, teasing the underside of her breast before cupping it in his large hand. She moaned at the feel of her hardening nipple, his fingers grasping gently at her flesh.

“You beautiful,” he muttered into her neck, nipping the skin again. “Fucking gorgeous.”

He bent his head and pressed a kiss to her breast before swiping his tongue over her nipple. She cried out at that first touch, his mouth all heat and wet and when he sucked it deeper into his mouth she grasped the back of his head and held him to her breast. As he sucked he swirled his tongue and she felt her hips stutter forward into his of their own accord and he chuckled.

“Eager my love,” he asked, moving his lips to her other breast and she cried out again, the swirl of his tongue making her hips stutter forward again and she could feel his bulge beneath his trousers. She didn't answer, pulling his head back away from her and she kissed him hard, nipping his bottom lip hard. 

He growled and lifted her up the shock of it making her squeal as he rose to his feet and on instinct she wrapped her legs around his waist to balance herself. She felt pretty secure though as he spun her around and placed her on the bed, settling between her legs. He groaned pressing his erection into her centre and she pressed back, the two of them starting up a quick rhythm for a moment.

“Oh heavens,” she gasped, “Maxwell please.”

“I'm going to make you scream Josie,” he growled in her ear.

“Promises, promises my love,” she said, a little more breathless than she would've like . He chuckled, nipping her lobe quickly before moving off her body. She moaned softly as he started to pull away her skirts and leggings, dumping them on the floor and looking over her bronze body. She smiled, reaching out for him and he squeezed her hand before dipping down to lick over her centre.

Josephine gasped and pressed her hips up for more. 

He ran a finger over her dark hair and into the wet heat of her body. She tried to shove her whole body up so the finger was where she wanted it to be, but he moved a hand to hold her down at the hip. 

“Ah ah Josie.”

“Josephine,” she hissed as he pressed his fingers deep into the flesh of her hip. She liked it, too much she realised, the strength he had in his hands alone. She would have bruises come tomorrow. 

“Even now?” he grumbled into her heat. 

“Yes,” she sighed. “Even now. Maxwell.”

He smirked and bent his head once more to lap at her, running his tongue over the length of her and making her shudder at the rough feel. He held her thighs apart, those strong fingers pressing into the flesh of her legs. She wanted to tell him to press harder, to dig deeper into her but couldn't quite get her words out, only moans and whines. He pushed apart her folds with his strong tongue, teasing her entrance and she groaned, it was good, good and she wanted more. She wriggled again, the lower half of her body shifting and shaking and he pushed inside slowly, making her cry out. More, she had to have more and she didn't need to tell him that. His tongue was replaced by a thick finger, sliding into her heat and she bucked up slightly, taking him deeper into her body. She gasped and he circled her clit with his tongue, her hips rotating ever so gently with the rhythm, her eyes closing as she gave into him. 

She whimpered as her pressed another finger into her body and she felt a fullness through her, a ripple of pleasure going up her spine. 

“Max-well,” she moaned.

“More?” he asked but she couldn't quite answer and he pressed a third finger into her, harder than she expected and it took her breath away slightly. He barely gave her body time to adjust to the stretch before shoving a fourth into her slick body and she cried out. He paused and she was worried he would pull out, pull away when she wanted more, but instead he bent his head and started sucking on her clit He started to fuck her with all four fingers, not that she really needed fucking, not at all, and she felt it, felt absolutely everything. Her body gripped him tight and she could feel every nick and bump on his skin as he moved. 

It wasn't going to take long, she could feel it, hard and fast like his movements. It shook through her and she wanted to scream but then the way his tongue swirled around her clit took her breath away.

“Max,” she managed to get out, his name more like a squeal as her body shuddered and then he curled his fingers she did scream, unsure how, unsure if she could even stop the noise as she came hard around his fingers, her clit throbbing in his mouth. 

He didn't stop.

He didn't stop lapping at her clit or moving her fingers and she cried out, trying to find the strength to lift her hands and push him away or pull her closer. She wasn't sure, she couldn't think, and he started to suck harder at her clit and it was too much, too much.

Too much.

Josephine was pretty sure she blacked out. 

For the first time ever.

She batted away Maxwell's hands, pressing a hand against his forehead. He lifted his head, face covered in her slick come, smiling at her.

“Careful,” she moaned. 

“I'm not done Josie,” he said.

“No, you're done. I'm done. I can't.”

She could see he was was thinking of ignoring her, but then she slowly felt him pull his fingers slowly from her body. Carefully, carefully, bit by bit and she whimpered a little. She was going to be sore tomorrow.

She was going to love it.

“Sorry,” he said, “was that too much?” he asked.

“Maker no, please,” she took a deep breath, “that was amazing my love.”

He shifted up to kiss her on the the lips, soft and she wrapped her arms around him. 

“You were amazing,” he said. “I love you.” 

“When I am able to think clearly again we will continue,” she said, pushing her hips up into the erection she could feel pressing into her thigh.

“No need,” he said. “It can wait.”

She laughed, she loved this man, would always love this man, she kissed him again.

“But I cannot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably just a couple more chapters left to go.


	10. Continuations

He laughed, pressing his hips into her with a slight groan and she reached down between them to pull open the laces at his waist. 

“I cannot either, I was merely being polite.”

“What would you have done? If I had agreed?” she asked, she supposed she could guess, he could be terribly honourable at times and she pulled open his trousers enough for her to slip her hand into his smalls and wrap her fingers around his erection. He groaned, thrusting into her hand and he leaned into her, lips brushing her ear.

“I would make you watch as I pleasured myself, calling out your name, splashing my seed on your skin when I came.”

Josephine gasped, not expecting him to use such words and he grinned at her, the expression slightly strained as she started moving her hand. She loved this older Maxwell, his mouth, his mind. She smiled at him and he kissed her hard, hips still moving in time with her hand. She felt him tense up against her, kissing her still and pulled her hand from his trousers. 

“Josephine,” he whined.

“If you wish me to continue my lord you should remove the last of your clothing,” she said smiling.

He growled and moved off of her body to stand and remove his breeches, pulling them down and kicking them off, leaving him bare before her. His thigh muscles were bigger too, stronger, and she cupped her own breast, playing with her nipple at the sight of him naked before her, cock proud and hard. 

“Holy Maker, Josie.”

She smiled, pinching her nipple a little hard and he quickly moved back between her legs, erection pressing between her legs this time and they both moaned as he pressed into her soaking folds. 

“Max,” she whispered, pressing her hips up into his, his cock pushing at her entrance.

Before she realised what was happening, his arms were around her and he was flipping them over. She squealed at the sudden motion and he laughed, lying back and smiling at her as she sat up, straddling him.

“I've dreamt about this,” he told her. 

His erection strained against her and she started to slide over his erection as she rocked gently against him. He was groaning, his hand settling on her hips, pressing into the flesh there. She wasn't skinny, had always been a little thicker than the pretty girls at court but right now she couldn't care as she felt his eyes on her, so serious, so sincere in his appreciation of her.

“Harder,” she muttered, feeling a blush rise at the request.

“What?”

“Your hands. Press harder.” 

He did so, digging his fingers into her hips as she rose up on her knees and took him in her hand moaning, and guiding him into her body. As he pushed up into her, she rocked down onto him, biting her lip. He was hot, hard, and it was a little painful as the sensations seared through her, despite the thorough finger fucking he'd given her before. When he was completely inside her she cried out, tripping over her own tongue as she tried to form his name, emotions warring with sensations.

“I've – I've never wanted anything more,” he said. “Than to be with you.” 

She wanted to cry, the feeling of him inside her, the slight pain of his finger digging into her, his words, the look of complete pleasure on his face. It was suddenly too much and she couldn't bare it.

All she could really do was move.

Lifting up and dropping back down quickly, using her entire body to bring them both to completion as he held onto her and started to counter her thrusts, the two of them finding a rhythm together. She wasn't going to last long, her body already sensitive from her first spectacular orgasm and the way he was thrusting up into her body. He looked amazing, beautiful, as his eyes closed, every perfectly defined muscle working hard, glistening with sweat and she shuddered, the feeling going right through her and making him groan.

“Josie,” he moaned.

“Uh-huh,” she managed to get out – unsure if it were an answer or a question. 

Josephine could feel every part of him, of his erection as it filled her, the tip pushing up against her, shaft stretching her. She reached down to stroke over her own clit and he placed his hand over hers, the additional fingers over her sensitive bundle of nerves making her cry out. 

“Please Josie,” he pleaded but she wasn't sure she could help him, her rhythm faltering as she moved on top of him with increasing speed. He started to guide her movements, fucking up into her using all his strength and she felt him push deeper inside her. She could feel how close he was but the way he shook as he moved, and she felt tight heat flood her as she came, screaming again, loud enough for all of the Maker's children to hear, muscles tightening around him and squeezing him harder under she collapsed on top of him, hands on his chest.

She was still shaking when Maxwell came, with a few frantic thrusts slamming up into her body, that almost had her loosing balance. He managed to keep her upright with his hands on her hip, bruising her skin like she wanted, needed, another shot of pleasure going through her. She felt him pulse over and over inside her, hot and wonderful, and she felt the heat flood her as his seed did.

“Oh fuck, Josephine, my love, my lady, I-” 

She cut off his babbling with a kiss, before resting her forehead against his and he let go of her hips to stroke a hand up her body and cup her cheek.

“Josie?” 

At the odd tone of his voice she looked up and smiled at him.

“What's wrong?”

“You're crying,” he said. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

She smiled, letting his softening cock slip from her body as she slid to lie beside him, kissing him on the cheek.

“It was amazing my love,” she said. “I was overwhelmed by my own emotions.”

“Is that good?”

She chuckled.

“Very.”

He smiled back, moving to pull some blankets over them as she settled in next to him, yawning as she did so. Exhaustion hit her as hard as her orgasms had and now she wanted nothing more than to sleep in his arms. She went to speak again when he shushed her, kissing her on the top of her head.

“Rest my lady,” he said. 

She nodded with another yawn, closing her eyes to his wonderful face for the first time for the rest of her life. Had she not fallen to sleep, she would've cried all over again.

x

She woke in his bed. 

It was wonderful.

The bed was soft and warm, and he lay next to her dozing still, one of her arms was cradled between his. He snored softly and it was adorable, she shifted closer to him. She pulled her arm free so she could lie on her side and wrap an arm around him. He was warm, the skin of his back soft and pulled taut over his muscles. 

“Josie,” he mumbled. “Everything okay?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “It's long past dinner. Are you hungry?” she asked.

“A little.”

“I could have someone bring us up something.”

“That would be nice.”

She went to climb out of bed but he moved quickly, pulling her back to him and kissing her.

“In a bit,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and holding her securely. “Stay here a little longer.”

“Very well my lord,” he chuckled.

“Any regrets?” he asked. 

“How could I ever regret any of this? Perhaps that we did not do this sooner. Or that I did not realise how I felt sooner.”

“No, no. This happened exactly how the Maker planned it. Nothing worth having was ever easy to obtain,” he said. “Even love.”

“Maker, your words,” she gasped, kissing him again.

“We'll marry, and have children and save the world together.”

“Not necessarily in that order I hope,” she asked, unable to stop smiling, feeling a new spread of warmth through her body as his hands moved to caress her skin lightly.

“No, no my love, we should really save the world before we have children at least.”

She laughed. 

“I am glad to hear it Maxwell.”

“Max,” he corrected.

“Inquisitor,” she tried and he groaned, tickling her side until she squealed.

“Very well, Max,” she managed to get out on a huff of breath. “Max, Max stop!”

He did so and kissed her, rolling so that he was half on top of her and she felt him, half hard against her, face flushed and eyes dark.

“Let us eat, I will need the energy if we are to continue our earlier activities,” she said, kissing him lightly.

He groaned but acquiesced, moving off her to let her slip from the bed. She found his robe and slipped it on. 

“I will be back, do not move.”

“Your wish is my command my lady.”

She blushed, wanted to tell him how much she loved him. Wanted to say it over and over, but settled for another quick kiss before slipping down the stairs to get the attention of the guard that hovered near his door in the main hall. 

Later, later she would tell him just how much she loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly finished.


	11. Another Summer Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short epilogue.  
> Now complete.

Josephine grabbed Maxwell's hand as he passed by the balcony, pulling him through the curtains, laughing as he almost fell over. She remembered doing this before, a long time ago for that very first time but she didn't know him at all back then – now she knew everything, all of his secrets. She loved his secrets. Loved him.

“Maker Josie,” he said, and she hushed him with a quick kiss. He stood up straight running his hands down her side and over her distended belly.

“Sorry my love,” she said, with a smile.

“Are you well?”

“Tired.” 

“I'm not surprised, Maxwell Trevelyan the Second kept you awake most of the night.”

“We are not calling her that,” she said, rubbing her hand over her bump, soothing the stirring baby within. “And anyway, this is another girl.” 

Maxwell frowned.

“How can you be so sure?” he asked.

“The same as I was last time.”

“Cole.”

“Cole,” she said, with a smile.

“Josephine Trevelyan the second?” he asked and she rolled her eyes.

“No.” 

“Michelle wants to call the baby Alma.”

“This is why toddlers do not get a say in the naming of their siblings. My mother informed me once I wanted to call Yvette Lucky because I had just lost my cat of the same name. I also wanted to call my brother Frederic Tea pot.”

“Tea Pot?” he asked.

“Indeed. I still think it would suit him.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her as close as he could. 

“My mother will want to spend more time with you before we retire my love,” he said. 

“Perhaps,” she said. “And we cannot ran away as quickly as we once could.”

“Come dance with me,” he said. “We'll dance a little longer then I'll take you to bed.”

“Do you promise?” she asked, kissing him on the lips, feeling his hands sweep up her sides and over her sensitive breasts. He chuckled when she gasped, he loved the way her body changed when she was pregnant, had enjoyed discovering all the subtle differences all over again. She hated how she looked however when she was pregnant like this, even though she had done this before. However Maxwell always made her feel beautiful, no matter what state she was in. 

“I promise. One dance and then bed.”

She nodded, and took his hand to let him lead her through the curtains and back into the ball. He spun her around carefully as they reached the dance floor and she laughed, bumping into several others; she was a little ungraceful at seven months with child.

“This is everything I wanted in life,” he said, as they moved a little more sedately, carefully. Seven months, and the second time around and she was still trying to figure out how to move around with any sort of grace. Or without bumping into everything and everyone. She may not like the way her body changed or the way she looked, but the way Maxwell continued to worship her made her feel a lot better about herself. 

The world had been ending once and Maxwell had been able to make her feel like nothing was wrong at all.

“You wanted to become the most important religious figurehead of our time, defeat one of the original magisters, live in a huge fortress in the mountains with your pregnant wife, your daughter and a strange assortment of companions?” she asked smiling, trying not to laugh.

“Well, perhaps not that exactly,” he said, laughing and leaning forward to kiss her. He didn't care for the propriety of the Ostwick court, not when it came to her.

“Then what my lord,” she asked.

“You,” he said, “this dance, this child. Michelle.”

“Heavens the things you say,” she said, with a sigh. “Let's go.”

“No rush my lady,” he said.

“Every rush my love,” she said. “Your mother is headed this way and I know she wants the baby to be named after her.”

“Never,” he muttered quietly, glancing over his shoulder and seeing his mother weaving through the dancers towards them. “I am not calling my daughter Trumare.” 

“Then we should move quickly.”

He nodded and grabbed her hand, pulling his wife through the dancers to the edge of the floor, as well as he could when she was so very pregnant, before kissing her quickly on the lips and pulling her out into the estate.

“To bed my lady?” he asked.

“Let's check on Michelle,” she said, smiling at him. “Then you can take me to bed and have your way with me.”

He laughed at that, running his hand over her belly.

“I love you Josie.”

“I love you too Maxwell,” she said, taking his hand once more as they headed up the stairs together. 

“Max,” he corrected her.

“Josephine,” she told him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this epilogue was so long in coming, real life pretty much went insane there for a bit.


End file.
